


Sorry (to my not so unknown lover)

by kangelique



Series: The Captain Swan Playlist [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: "And so it seems I broke your heart", Angst and Feels, Birthday, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Liam Jones is a dick, Love Confessions, Love Letters, No hate on Liam though but here he is, Phone Calls, Reunions, Super conflicted, based on a halsey song, how about some kiss and make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23060161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: Emma didn't think she would have the guts to walk into Granny's dinner, specially not when the whole town is there. Yet here she is, backed into a corner with Liam and Alice Jones demanding answers for the break up that didn't actually happen. Meanwhile Killian wants out, of this party, of Liam's opinions, but suddenly it's his brother that's at the center of it all. Hiding something from him. A letter. Explaining Emma's disappearance. The fucken truth in his hands. Could it be he wasn't wrong in letting their spark continue to burn?
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Series: The Captain Swan Playlist [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327670
Kudos: 39





	Sorry (to my not so unknown lover)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, it's been so long since I posted something for the playlist. It was about time I do some new stuff, but I actually had my heart set on finishing this 5 chapter story based on some other song and then that didn't happen but this one did. Hope you like It though. So, anyway I present to you Sorry ( to my not so unknown lover), now fully up to your (nice, hopefully nice?) judgement.

**Sorry (to my not so unknown lover):**

Emma cranned her neck further out, scanning the crowd for David and Mary Margaret again. 

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

Brief tremors rippled through the hand pressed against the edge of the wall, the gift bag dangling from her wrist shaking slightly when she inhaled a deep breath. She’d been here, what, ten minutes tops? Just waiting for a glimpse of a pixie cut or Ruby’s tell tale high heels creating echoes on the black and white checkered floor, but nothing. Another uncertain knot twisted with the others in her stomach, tightening the longer she stood with her back facing the bathroom door. Seriously where were they? They were party people and she was, well, not. Never had been, never would be. Which is why now would be a good time for some moral support. 

Again. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

The bell happily dinged, announcing the arrival of a new guest walking into the sight of colorful twirling streamers hanging from the ceiling and bobbing balloons tied to the backs of chairs; People stood at the counter holding glasses of rum while others lounged in the vinyl booths along the wall, their chatter mixing with the 1930’s melody playing from the jukebox. ‘Let’s celebrate!’ mantels covered the usually silver surface of the tables lined inside the diner, and the smiles on everyone’s faces was as inviting as the burgers and fries passed out by Granny. Occasionally laughter erupted from either end, adding to the merry air otherwise tinged with grease. 

Must be nice. 

Emma bit her shaky bottom lip, squeezing her eyes shut for good measure. None of this was her scene, or more importantly, none of this was Killian’s, preferring a nice quiet evening instead. She would know. Before she became the worst girlfriend in the world, she had been tucked against Killian’s side in front of the burning fireplace as they sipped hot cocoa with cinnamon, his arm wrapped around her waist with a blanket covering their shoulders from the non-existent cold. Just a trickle of rum had always gone into his mug to help with the uncalled for sweetness he liked to complain about so much but secretly liked it too. Killian would have been happy with a small, intimate celebration at home, not this town wide event, but like her walls, traces of Liam Jones reeked of something else they could not escape from. 

Suddenly a deep and hearty laugh broke across the room, quickly drawing Emma’s attention to the person said laugh belonged to. The hopeful smile struggling to form on her lips fell when her gaze landed on Aurora, who was currently talking up Killian at the end of the counter next to the door that called to Emma like a neon sign, demanding she run through it before her heart could shrink any more. Pride used to swell in her chest when she made him laugh like that -she used to fall asleep to his fingers sliding gently down her hair as he murmured childhood stories into her cheek, those rare days when he got lucky and she would share a few memories of her own that didn’t hit the Extremely Horrible category- and no doubt the same was happening in Aurora right now. Who could resist the cheeky grin Emma caught a glimpse of? Certainly not Emma. Not for long, at least. And of course those cerulean eyes and easy smile helped him fit into the space more than her. 

Fuck. 

Aurora. Whiny Aurora. Pretty Aurora. This was what Emma wanted though, wasn’t it? It was the whole point of the letter-

“If you just got here, love, Granny is serving-oh.” Emma spun around with widened eyes, clutching the gift bag to her stomach like it could somehow serve as a ticket into the Jones’ family good graces. A stiffness coursed through her spine when she met Alice’s inquisitive raised eyebrows. “Pardon my reaction, dear,” Alice finally said after a beat. “But I simply wasn’t expecting your presence.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma replied quickly and tried to smile but what was that saying? Guilty as charged. Her eyes flicked to the open bathroom door and to Alice’s frozen stance, not even trying to hide the fact that she was studying her, searching for a motive, for an answer. Emma took a step forward, emphasizing the blue gift bag she was still holding. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Alice crossed her arms. “Perhaps for me, but not for my son.”

Emma winced, but there was no denying that. Why else would she be creeping behind a wall, the hesitance to step past the threshold growing by the minute because the smile breaking across Killian’s face stopped her? She’d been justifiably angry with the disapproval that’d radiated off Liam in waves, but somehow the resonant disappointment in Alice’s voice was worse. Guess that was her exit out.

She cleared her throat and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not staying long. I just…” The sounds of the party yanked her back, gaze inevitably falling on Killian over her shoulder and how he was leaning an elbow on the surface of the counter, ankles crossed as was his custom, and rim of the glass reaching his lips as he arched an eyebrow at Aurora, looking so...so better off. Not happy, but better off. She tried to imprint the image of Aurora batting her eyelashes and placing a hand on his arm for when the urge to rip up the letter in a million pieces reared its ugly head again. And it would, despite the fact that their relationship had been like the rum Killian now threw his head back to swallow, bitter and sweet in its aftertaste. And good. 

God, she needed to pull herself together. 

Okay. Ready. 

“Anyway,” Emma turned around to face Alice, something akin to softness having filtered into her equally cerulean eyes that made Emma blink twice in question. “Anyway, I just came to drop this off.”

She didn’t lift a muscle when Emma held out the gift bag to her, instead staring at her in slowly rising apprehension but hard to tell with her almost impenetrable features. Emma only nodded firmly, trying to control the tapping of her foot because obviously she couldn’t walk into a party where everyone was aware she didn’t belong. Why could she just take the bag and have this encounter over with? 

Alice finally sighed, and accepted the bag. It didn’t help Emma’s lungs loosen like they should have, no relief rushing to cover the large number of knots mixed with each other like it should have the moment the gift bag was no longer in her hand and her reason to stay was gone. Her reason to go reappearing in seconds. 

“Listen sweetheart,” Alice started gently, lowering her voice as she closed the gap between them a bit -and smiled kindly. Wait, what the fuck. “I am yet to be informed on the details of your separation, but I am certain he misses you.”

“Really?” Emma snapped her mouth shut. Damn it. Way to give herself away.

“It’s preposterous to even question it,” Alice scoffed. “And I wouldn’t lie about my son’s feelings, no matter the circumstance, Emma.”

No. Alice would not, although Emma kinda wished she would. It would be a hundred times easier to have Alice looking at her with palpable hatred -much like how Liam did, reaching his purpose to make her feel as unwelcome as possible to all the family dinners she’d been invited to-than to hear this was the real case with Killian. 

“Do tell me If I’m wrong, of course.”

Emma bit her lip. “I don’t know, he seems better off, I guess.” Definitely from this angle. 

Alice shook her head. “Don’t let appearances fool you, dear. You and I both know how adept Killian can be at masking his true emotions.”

Emma snorted in response. “Only when he wants to be. All the other times he’s an open book.”

“That’s an intriguing thought,” Alice remarked. “Given how he says the same of you.”

Moisture pricked her eyes. He did? A crack in the dam holding her from feeling everything, including the truth, was almost enough to cause the vulnerability to slip into her voice because she shouldn’t have let the phone ring and ring until it too died away like all of her good sense. Killian’s voice. God he’d sounded so broken when she’d lay down on her too big bed and finally allowed his voicemail to fill the silence. Honestly how easy would it have been to swipe her thumb across the screen? So fucking easy. So fucking hard. And now she wouldn’t get the chance to roll her eyes at his Open book, love as he pressed a lingering kiss to her hair. It was stupid, and she was stupid for letting the dam hold this long. 

“Mrs. Jones, would you mind telling me very fast before I go how-”

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

There it was. Yay for her. It was amazing how this was the Jones Brother she dreaded most. 

“Manners William,” Alice snapped.

“My apologies, mum,” Liam said as his determined stride slowed and Emma braced herself for the not-so-suppressed-glare he immediately directed her direction when he halted next to Alice, placing a restricting hand on her shoulder. Emma’s fingers twitched with the effort not to visibly curl them into a fist, and rolling her eyes was suddenly the only way she was going to get through this. “But unfortunately I don’t believe she was invited.”

Yeah, SO unfortunate. 

“You’re right, I wasn’t,” Emma replied calmly. 

“Wonderful.” His grin lacked the friendless that never settled for her even on a good day, and he gestured towards Granny’s backdoor. “So glad we’re on the same page, allow me to escort you out.”

“Liam that’s enough.”

“No it’s okay,” Emma tried to reassure her despite the fact that her already crossed arms tightened. Liam didn’t budge, the way he shifted his shoulders so they appreared more prominent and straighter succeding in screaming I’m a marine and Killian was a marine and you’re still not fucking good enough, and lifted his chin in defiance reflecting all the times he’d greeted her at the door. She sighed. They were never going to see eye to eye, were they? Any hope that managed to flash while in conversation with Alice died under Liam’s stone stare, and truth be told Emma did get it. This idea Liam held that Killian needed to be protected, and protected from her? Even more understandable, but someone was bound to punch him in his self-righteous face if she didn’t beat them to it and man did she want to after all those accusations thrown her way about ruining his career and stealing any chance he has towards happiness. 

Emma stepped forward. Alice was right though, this was enough. She focused her small smile on Alice, blocking Liam out before she said something she would regret. “Can you just make sure he gets that?” she pointed at the gift bag. 

“We’ll do our best,” Liam replied quickly. “Now, if you please.”

“I heard you the first time,” Emma snapped. “ And in case you haven’t noticed I am capable of escorting myself out, thanks.”

“By all means, do so quietly. You’ve hurt my little brother enough as it is,” he said with a dangerously low voice containing the sharpness of twenty knifes whose pointy ends slashed open her chest. She froze on the spot, eyes wide, blood thinning in her veins as the echo of his words in her head bled her out. She’d hurt Killian. For once this wasn’t the other way around. This wasn’t her and Neal, and Neal hurting her. This was Killian turning down a promotion and Liam blaming it on her without knowing the full story, and maybe she’d used that low blow as an excuse to run away from the three frightening words waiting to be spilled. 

“You needn’t ruin this day along with the others.”

Oh. On that they could agree on but-

“It’s younger.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He hates being called little,” Emma whispered, averting her gaze from them both. “You know that.”

Ha, the jerk hadn’t expected that by the looks of his startled expression. One point for her. 

“Right, well-”

Alice gasped, and both Emma and Liam turned alarming looks on her. “Oh this song-”

“Is your favorite,” Emma finished softly when the familiar voice from Iris Goo Goo Dolls singing _I got dreams of you all through my dread, fortune teller said I’d be free, and that’s the day you came to me_ reached her ears, and for the first time since she’d arrived, the corners of her lips quirked up. They flew back down again, caught in between an unsure frown, as Alice and Liam’s eyebrows shot towards their forehead. 

“That’s quite true, but how are you aware of such?” Alice asked with a small tilt of her head. 

“Killian told me,” Emma answered hesitantly, and shrugged lightly like this was no big deal, like after months of keeping herself MIA this simple fact wasn’t still embedded into what clasified as important and important to Killian. “It’s also his favorite, even though he won’t admit what a big Goo Goo Dolls fan he is.”

She wasn’t either. Or a Beatles fan if they were going to start asking about that too. Too old for her Metallica and Twenty One Pilots taste. So why had she spent the better part of a boring stakeout adding songs from Five For Fighting and The Beatles and Aerosmith, even a few of Dolly Parton’s to the playlist she had created on Youtube? And then took out her phone with said playlist on the nights when neither she or Killian were in the mood to talk because of a bad day or his disappointing father or a fight. They would lay with their backs facing each other, music playing in between them and the occasional Ad in need of someone to skip it, but eventually their fingers found each other in the room plunged in darkness. Fingers interlacing and squeezing in some kind of unspoken apology. 

Emma sighed. It wasn’t that easy this time, no matter how many Westlife songs she played, it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t. 

“Don’t let this fact deter you, mum. Emma was in the middle of saying her goodbyes,” Liam finally said pointedly. 

“Apparently you’re pretty good at saying them for me.” Oh fuck. One of them had to be mature. Fine. Looks like it was gonna have to be her. “Thank you,” she said to Alice, before throwing Liam a nod of acknowledgement and being brought up short by strong warm fingers wrapping around her forearm. 

“I meant what I said, love.” Alice walked closer until Liam’s frown was obstructed from her view, and all Emma could register was the quiet words spoken under her breath as she looked at her intently from under her long lashes. “Gifts may come later. No doubt he’d like to see you in person.”

“I…” What could she say to him? Besides admitting their good thing and the good thing she’d failed to accept. Nothing. Literally nothing could make up for disappearing without a goodbye, no merciful hint that would have given him a head ups about the running instincts that had returned with full force. He didn’t deserve a runner. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mrs. Jones.”

Liam scoffed behind her. “For once I agree.”

Alice’s soft smile stayed trained on Emma. “Regardless, remember it.”

Emma did as she pushed open Granny’s backdoor and half sprinted down the sidewalk with heavy footsteps, the part of her that had left the gift bag inside pulling at her pounding heart to join the truth. She did as she strapped the seatbelt across her chest like it could serve as a poor attempt to keep her grounded in her bug and keep her from staring out the windshield into a question that ringed loud and clear in her shallow breathing. 

What if. 

Would she pick up the phone, if he ever called again? 

_What if._

She stuck the key into the ignition, setting her palms firmly on the steering wheel as her bug struggled to life. 

No more what if’s.

*****

Killian tipped his head back towards the ceiling, allowing the bitter liquid to slide past his parted lips for the eight - no, perhaps tenth?- time. His eyes briefly squeezed shut, if only to drown out Aurora’s fruitless attempt at chit chat and the party in action currently surrounding him, encassing him into a room where people’s shoes were almost too closely packed together that they almost succeded in obscuring the black and white checkered tile floor. His lips twisted in a small grimace as the burning sensation filled his throat, softly releasing his breath as he set the empty glass back on the counter. 

The lass leaned forward, smiling flirtatiously as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and casually covered his wrist with her palm, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand gently. Swan used to do that. Bloody hell, he needed a refill. Killian tried to smile, corners of his mouth barely cooperating as he glanced around for the waitress walking with an open bottle of rum. Aurora noticed and removed her hand, a confusing clearing away the slight coyness in her expression, and well it was about time she got the message. 

God, he’d told Liam a nice quiet evening was what he desired -preferably alone, preferably with his girlfriend. Or whatever the hell they were these days, given that the messages he sent were sometimes met with three small thinking bubbles and all his voicemails and calls had gone unanswered- but of course he hadn’t listened and instead brought him to what appeared to be a town wide event rather a simple cutting of the cake. He wasn’t ungrateful, per se, but it was as though Liam was once more topping the unreachable bar. 

Aurora straightened, and Killian averted her gaze in favor of tracing the laugther to the people it belonged to. His own laugther had long since faded after she’d cracked a horrible joke, unaware of the fact that his mind had travelled to something Emma had said at the same time and the rememberance had caused his mouth to burst open without permission. 

  
Emma. 

His Emma. Who no longer occupied a side of his bed, who’d stolen the growing possibility that he’d wake up to soft, golden tresses tickling his face. Was it foolish of him how he was yet to stomp on the flare of hope continuing to burn as much as the rum he had consumed? So stubborn the flare that for a moment, when he was searching over his shoulder for Liam, or anyone truly to come to his rescue, the slight haze clouding his head was sharply lifted by the glimpse of a red leather jacket and blonde hair. Of course Killian blinked and it was gone -she was gone-because the flare was nothing more than impossible. 

Alright. He needed a walk, a few minutes of silence so the disappointment didn’t become so visible on his slumped shoulders. 

Killian turned and opened his mouth to excuse himself at the same time Aurora’s eyes slid to the approaching figure at his side, and suddenly his body was tilting by the arm slung heavily around his shoulders.

“Killian come! It’s time to cut the cake,” Liam announced cheerfully. 

“It is?” he inquired dumbly. “I thought you said-”

Liam cut him off with a quick shake of his head. “Change of plans, little brother.” Killian narrowed his gaze at him, taking a step out of his grasp when Liam’s wide smile twitched. 

“Now wait a moment, why are you acting so strange?”

“Are you sure?” Another twitch. “Perhaps I’m simply eager to watch you blow out your candles.”

No, that was certainly not it. Killian glanced him over once, eyes settling on the hand Liam was keeping behind his back, and his brows further furrowed into incredulity. “You’re hiding something from me, what is it?”

It was as though Liam’s stillness had finally punctuated through the loudness of the party he hadn’t triumphed in drowning out, even Aurora shifting uncomfortably on her feet as they stared at each other. Killian’s jaw ticked. Maybe it was due to the string of disaproving comments regarding Emma that he was always reminded of when he looked at Liam, or the wedge Liam had drived into the walls Killian was yet to knock all the way down. An understanding flashed in Liam’s eyes, but Killian only raised his head higher, lips refusing to be anything that wasn’t a straight line. 

“Very well,” Liam sighed. “She came and -”

“She.” His pulsed thudded in his ears. She? There was only one she who had the power to set his heart racing, who was similarly behind the reason Liam hung his head slightly and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Dear lord, could it be? Could it be his Swan had come, and those boxes sitting in his apartment were not destined to be picked up by her and unpacked a thousand miles away from him? The red leather jacket, the blonde hair, it hadn’t been due to the longing clinging to his chest. No, no, no, she’d been here. Yes. “Emma,” Killian breathed, eyes wide, and Liam’s frown was confirmation enough. He lunged for the gift bag -blue as in the sea, as in his favorite color. She’d remembered-but Liam pulled it out his grasp so his fingers grabbed air. “Give it to me,” he barked. “Hand it over, Liam, what are you doing.”

“I truly don’t think it’s wise-”

“Then it’s a good thing it’s not your decision to make,” Killian snapped. He placed his hand out expectantly. “Hand it over. I won’t ask a third time, brother.”

Liam shoved the gift bag against his chest, and Killian glared at him before his attention fell on ripping off the shoddy amount of tape on the top with impatient fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, Liam tapped his foot and crossed his arms resolutely. 

“Killian, I refuse to stand here and watch how your heart is torn apart once more.”

“You’re always welcome to turn around.”

He scoffed, hands gesturing wildly. “Do you even hear yourself? How quick you are to take her side whilst I’m trying to protect you. I can’t even begin to fathom the excuses she’s conceived for her disappearance. The immaturity in that woman is…”

Killian had ceased to listen, Emma’s _“Honestly, what is wrong with you, Jones, how are you not freezing?”_ invading his whirlwind of thoughts as he carefully dug his hand into the bag and brushed his palm along the knitted navy blue scarf. Handmade, it would seem, where the yarn had pulled funny in assumption to Emma getting tired and deciding to leave it in the middle of a row. He slowly brought the scarf out of the bag, eyes tracing the ends she’d forgotten to pull throughly in the flourescent bulbs emitting a fresh assurance in its light as he held it in front of him. 

“She did this,” Killian whispered. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, digging his thumb into the softness of the wool as if the warmness of her skin could still be found there. “It is to your great advantage that this cold weather has no effect on me, love. Feel free to admire as much as you’d like,” he had told her in response, unable to hold back the smirk, and Emma had rolled her eyes but a rosy pink had tinted her cheeks and then she’d abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to grip him tightly by the lapels of his jacket, beguilling emerald eyes shifting from his to the black hair in plain view left for the wind to bite. 

“Aye,” Liam said through gritted teeth. “And now you’re to fall at her feet, is that right?”

The frown returned in full force, eyes flashing dangerously. “Don’t speak as if you know her, I warn you.” He switched the bag to his other hand and Liam noticed the white envelope at the same time he did, mouth no doubt opening to argue. Killian only glared at him, daggers cutting off Liam’s words and leaving them to die on his tongue as he held the small envelope between his thumb and forefinger. No address. No name. But it was from her. 

My god _finally._

“Oh brother don’t-”

Finally something. 

_Dear Killian,_  
_I’m sorry. I know I’ve missed your calls for lots of months, and if it makes any kind of difference I still know your birthday and your mom’s favorite song. honestly maybe it doesn’t anymore cause I did what I always do and ran away when things were good. Trust me, they were good. I also know how mean I can be, specially to you, but i just never really understood the way you layed your eyes on me and then I just completely failed to see it from the start too._  
_Mary Margaret actually told me that sometimes I treat the people I love like jewerly. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you, but the point is i don’t mean to change my mind each day. And to be clear, I didn’t change my mind. things just got- Okay, the point is my ignorance struck again and I broke your heart, and what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you behind, and I did it anyway but I’m sorry I could be so blind and just seriously can’t fucken believe anyone ever really starts to fall in love with me._  
_you deserve a future, someone who’s better at all of this. I swear someone will love you, and they won’t be like me all scarred and judgemental and you having to put up with my crap. Don’t do anything stupid after this. I’m sorry again._  
_Happy birthday,_  
_Sincerely Emma_

Killian swallowed thickly, past the lump clasping onto his throat like two strong hands restricting his air flow. The desire to scream had grown with every unbelievable word, side of the notebook paper crumpled by the tight curl of his palm, and his fingers had long since frozen midway through his hair, tugging on the clumps as if they could erase every sentence that made him shake his head vehemently. And then his blurry gaze settled onto one specific word, the people I love acting as the light at the end of the tunnel. Love. Emma Swan had said love. Could it be she…?

He was about to find out. 

“Forgive me but I must go.”

  
“Don’t bloody do this, Killian,” Liam said, spinning around as he rushed by him, eyes focused on the door and only the door. He ignored the small crowd gathered in curiosity staring back at him in the reflection of the glass, and simply increased the purpose in his footsteps when his mother materialized between Whale and Leroy. “She’s said her farewells,” Liam continued, if a bit desperately, throwing himself into a run to catch his arm. “She’s leaving town, it shan’t be worth any longer, brother, she’s-”

She’d said love. To hell with the consequences, for that was enough. 

Killian slowly removed his arm from Liam’s grip, and brought the renewed flare in his eyes to Liam’s pleading ones. He straightened his shoulders, prepared to tell him to bugger off when he sighed and pressed his lips together instead. His lips downturned wih the firm knowledge that he wouldn’t understand, could not understand to hell with the consequences. A gentle voice, the voice belonging to their family and being pulled from their youth much too soon, reminded him it wasn’t Liam fault, this intense struggle prominent on Liam’s face to comprehend what it meant to love someone when the cards had been stacked against him due to their drunken bastard of a father and the time for such had been replaced with the worries of bills and model figures. 

Kilian smiled sadly, so far from an apology. “Yet I love her,” he whispered and yanked open the door. 

Liam’s features twisted into a scowl that followed him as he sped down Granny’s front steps and past the white picket fence without any obscillation resonating in the gravel. He was greeted by the faint shadow of the moon when he glanced up, its half crest offering no sign of direction but smiling among the dying yellow rays clashing into the red and orange light spread over the thickness of the clouds. Ah, what a beautiful sight. Less so than a full moon on the waves, and less inclined to do anything but enhance Emma’s golden hair in his mind, but he loved her, he bloody well loved her, and damn if- Killian’s feet screeched to a halt, black boots nearly tripping over themselves. His eyes were wide as they blinked once and the yellow vehicle was yet to disappear, frantically tracing every inch of it as it were Emma herself and then her name almost flew out of his mouth when he discerned the red tease of a leather covered shoulder shift in the driver’s seat. He grasped the scarf tighter to his collarbone, stumbling backward a few steps as his fingers fought to wriggle his phone out of his back pocket and punch her number in so hard that a strain of pain shot to the tip of his thumb. 

“Swan?” Killian called, chest heaving slightly as though he had finished running a marathon. Inside the bug, she shifted again, pressumably to take out the ringing phone, and he stilled as she straightened to look at the ID caller. His foot’s tapping got in sinc with the throbbing of his heart that simply jumped to his throat in the mist of the wait, fatigued scratching his bones for this was too similarly another Will She or Will She Won’t dance. “Pick up, Swan, please pick up.”

Let it be she will. For once. 

  
“Killian, what-”

“I forgive you,” Killian said quickly, words jumbling together in the air he exhaled. He squeezed his eyes to try again with a better clarity, no relief would get the best of him, but the breath audibly caught in her throat and he found himself nodding in the direction of her back. “No matter what you’ve done, I already forgive you.” 

Emma sighed, sound pulling him forward. “I told you not to do anything stupid.”

“On the contrary, this might be the smartest decision I’ve come to make.”

Silence. 

Pure, unyielding silence that accompanied him on the nights after her disappearance, presenting itself as the friend he did not want, a deafening echo of her absence when his hand fell lumply on her side, searching for the waist he could not wrap his arm around. No Emma to anchor him, but now the light he’d left on the window in case she ever did return, glowed with the steady and silent breath he inhaled and he would wait. Liam did not know the extent of his wrong. 

“Did you like your present?”

The nerves pulling in his stomach, the cracks in his sinful heart created by the door that disappointed in revealing her, the tears turned into a walking flow of anger was not all for naught. Not when it led him back to her. To the woman whose worth was heavier than she realized. 

“Come out and see for yourself, sweetheart,” Killian said softly. 

If anyone inquired, he would tell them it was an eternity that procedded until the driver’s door opened and Emma’s head popped up when in reality it was two beats of indecision. Without any further conscious, he licked his lips, the anticipation for her to turn around reaching an unbearable level. His feet pulled him forward of their own mind, and they both continued to hold the phone to their ear so when she took a stabilizing breath and he cleared his throat softly, Emma’s hair spun around with her body to meet his small, so utterfuly hopeful, smile. 

Her hand dropped against her side, same as his, cautious green eyes flicking across his face in search of -what? Killian stepped closer, pushing his open expression up to her inspection until his nose brushed hers, forehead thumping lightly against hers. The corners of her mouth lifted, disbelief making them shaky, and he shook his head in response. She laughed gently, and closed her eyes when a tear slipped down her cheek. 

“Hey,” is all Emma’s wobbly voice said.

  
“Someone else loving me is pure rubbish.” 

“No, no,” Emma said quickly. “I meant what I said, Jones, what are you-”

She gasped when his fingers easily slid into her hair and in between her ears, palms knowing the path well and thumbs carressing her damp cheeks en route to dryer skin. “I love you, Emma,” Killian said fiercely. He paused for effect and raised his eyebrows for emphasis. “Most unconditionally.”

Emma scoffed under her breath, lips perhaps losing a pointless battle against the smile fighting to break free. “It’s like you didn’t even read the letter,” she admonished weakly, and Killian shrugged.

“When will you understand, darling? I don’t mind your scars.” His smile widened as her eyes slowly did. “For I adore them,” he whispered, a slight shake of his head because how could she possibly think any differently? “I like who you are. I like your walls, I like being the one to break them down.”

“Me too.”

He fixed his gaze on her bottom lip, and ran his thumb along it before settling it under her chin. Her smile trembled and she nodded before he’d even inquired his question, the tip of her boots bumping into his and pressing her chest closer upon his.

“May I?”

He ducked his head, breath tempting hers in its hover above her parted lips, and Emma leaned forward, tongue easily spiraling with his when their warm slides joined together, and his eyes instantly fell closed in an attempt to savor how her hands travelled the lengths of his arms to finish wrapping tightly around his neck as his hand tugged on her waist. He pushed his fingers into her hair, giving as good as he got in return, and a low growl sparking from his throat when their teeths clashed and she fell back to the ground but not before pulling significantly on his lower lip, their panting in synchronization to the hearts no doubt threathening to beat out of both their chests. His forehead found hers, but her smile was a blur as her lips came for his face, peppering kisses on his nose and cheek and jaw and corners of his mouth and arched eyebrows. 

“What I wrote is bullshit,” Emma breathed. “I don’t want anyone else loving you.”

Killian grinned. “Only you, aye?”

“It’s pretty selfish.”

He smirked in response. “I believe we can make an exception.”

  
“Good.” She smiled tenderly before brushing his skin with her palm and cupping his cheek meaningfully. “Happy birthday, babe.”

“Appears my wish has come true.”

Indeed. 

Emma Swan had finally answered his call.

**Author's Note:**

> -Song: Sorry by Halsey
> 
> -Thanks for reading!
> 
> -Also, thoughts?


End file.
